Antidote to Elasians
by LadyEnterprise1701
Summary: Captain Kirk finds himself in serious trouble with Lieutenant Uhura after that series of unfortunate events involving Elaan of Troyius. And he deserves it! Just a fluffy one-shot companion piece for "I Am Not Afraid."


A/N: This little oneshot follows my "I Am Not Afraid" story, which established my Kirk/Uhura + Spock/Christine universe, so you may want to read that first! Happy Thanksgiving!

* * *

 _Stardate 4376.2_

 _USS Enterprise_

 _Tellun Star System_

It was late—nearly midnight, by Earth Standard Time—and Beta Shift had just handed over the running of the _Enterprise_ to the smaller Gamma Shift, which meant that Captain James T. Kirk finally had a chance to leave the bridge…take a breath…unwind.

 _And God knows I need it_ , he thought, rubbing the back of his neck as he exited the turbolift and stepped onto Deck Seventeen. What had happened over the past twenty-hours boggled his mind. The political drama between the Elasians and the Troyians, the encounter with Klingons, Elaan…

 _Elaan._ Jim made a face at himself. How could he have been so utterly, totally, completely _stupid?!_

"Oh, come on now, Jim, it wasn't really your fault," Bones had said with a wry smile that told Jim he'd gotten a few perverse laughs out of the situation. "Her tears are nothin' short of a super love potion. I bet not even Spock could've resisted if he'd been touched."

"Yes, well," Jim had muttered, rubbing his arm where Bones had injected him with a (totally unnecessary) antidote. "Spock would've never gotten himself in a compromising situation with her in the first place. And Spock definitely would've _tried_ to fight it…if only because he knew Christine would wring his neck."

Christine Chapel, standing nearby, let the corners of her mouth twitch upward. She and Spock had had an…"understanding," as Spock discreetly called it, ever since their encounter with the Platonians. Not quite a workplace romance, but there'd been a definite, positive shift in their relationship that left Christine much more confident and Spock unusually placid—his version, obviously, of contentment.

"I hope I'd be a bit more sympathetic than _that_ , Captain," Christine had teased, returning his uniform tunic to him. "And I think you'll find that certain other individuals will be, too."

Hours later, Jim still winced at that gentle but unsettling point. He stopped in front of the open door of the observation deck. The room's ceiling-to-floor windows, nearly as thick as the hull of the ship, offered flawless views of the galaxy, giving the place a magical aura. Jim had wandered in here and stumbled on lovers' trysts more than once during the past almost-five years.

 _And judging by the tone of the message I got an hour ago,_ this _won't be a tryst._

He took a breath, squared his shoulders, and stepped over the threshhold. The greenish backlight against the inner wall of the room contrasted with the star-studded view in the window-wall. He moved slowly forward. Each window had sections of wall jutting forward into the room on either side, creating wide cubbies where crewmembers could snatch a little private time with the stars. He peered around the corner of each and, so far, found no one else in the room.

"Nyota?" he called, softly.

No answer, although he caught the sound of someone shifting position further down the deck. Jim raised his eyebrows and felt a needle of exasperation run up his spine.

"Lieutenant Uhura?"

This time, the response was quick. "Yes, sir?"

 _Ouch._ First names were out, titles were in. Jim swallowed down the humiliation— _you deserve it, you big oaf—_ and walked almost on tiptoe to the location of the soft voice he'd grown to depend on so much.

He laid a hand on the wall and peered into the "cubby." Lieutenant Uhura sat on the floor, her fingers clasped around one knee, her other dark, slender leg stretched out in front of her. She gazed out the window, her head turned well away, but he could see her face in the reflection and the expression on it was cold and detached.

Which, he remembered with a sinking gut, was the same way she'd looked after she watched him kiss Shahna on Triskelion. As if she were jealous—and with good reason—but was trying very, very hard not to show it.

"May I…" _Talk? Try to explain? Tell you how much I still love you?_ "…sit down?"

Nyota pulled her knee closer to her torso. "Of course. It's your ship. You may sit anywhere you like."

Jim hesitated a moment before lowering himself to a seat beside her—but not too close, just in case she decided to whirl and slap him across the face. Nyota kept her head turned away.

"We're heading out of the Tellun star system," he began. "Now that that's behind us, we can get to more important things…like…investigating that quasar system Spock located last week."

"Good," she said.

Jim mimicked her position—hands around one knee, the other leg stretched out, back against the wall—and said nothing for a long moment, waiting to see if she'd break the silence first. When she didn't, he sighed heavily.

"Nyota, I'm sorry."

In the reflection, he saw her purse her full, pretty lips.

"I thought I was doing the right thing. Pushing her around a little, letting her know she wasn't the center of her universe after all. And then she started crying and…" Jim let his voice trail off and stared morosely ahead of him. The whole situation just sounded crazier and even more idiotic coming out of his mouth. "I thought Petri was making that up, about the tears."

"Well, maybe you should've checked with Dr. McCoy about that first," Nyota said coldly.

Jim glared at the back of her head. "What is wrong with you? You didn't act like this when I told you about Deela."

"Well, _maybe_ that's because you were trying to save the _ship_!" Nyota hissed, jerking her head straight forward, eyes still downcast but glaring murderously at his clasped hands. "I understand that you're overflowing with charm and charisma and it's quite impressive, the way you use both to full effect—but you _didn't_ have to go that brat's cabin—which, by the way, is _my_ cabin— _my_ cabin that _she_ wrecked—and threaten to _spank_ her. You know what I'd do if you ever said that to my face? I'd spank _you—_ right across your face—and I don't even care if I'd get court martialed for striking my superior officer!"

"There would never be a court martial," Jim said quietly.

Nyota, her mouth open and ready for another barrage, snapped her mouth shut. He pulled the most genuinely penitent expression he could manage as she finally turned her head all the way and looked him in the eye.

"Oh really?" she demanded, less fiercely.

"Really," Jim said. "Because I'd never report you. I deserve whatever you do or say to me."

To his relief, the fury started to cool a little in Nyota's large, dark eyes. She unlaced her hands from around her knee and crossed her ankles instead. Jim waited as patiently as he could while she began rolling the hem of her uniform between her fingers.

"I'm sorry, Jim," she whispered. "It was just…I could barely look at you two. You didn't look _right_ , and she…she _knew_ what she was doing. Oh, Jim…" She leaned her dark head against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut. "I _hated_ her."

Part of Jim wanted to say that Elaan wasn't _quite_ worthy of hatred; she was just spoiled and in desperate need of someone to tell her "no" every once in a while. But any positive comments about the feisty Elasian princess would be disastrously counterproductive right now. He'd made a commitment to his communications officer after the Platonian Incident. She and their relationship, concealed from all but their closest friends, had become as precious to him in the past four months as the _Enterprise_ itself. She had every reason to feel betrayed.

 _If you just hadn't given yourself a hero complex…if you hadn't taken it upon yourself to deal with Elaan…if you hadn't been so ridiculously sure of yourself…_

"God help me," Nyota breathed, startling him out of his thoughts. "I don't think I knew how much I loved you until I realized she might take you away from me."

Something about the way she said it—either the breathlessness of it or the plaintive honesty—made another Something, urgent and desperate, flare to life in the center of his chest. Jim unclasped his hands and scooted a little closer. Nyota didn't move; her lovely face just took on a sad, weary look, and she didn't protest when Jim laid his hand over one of her own.

"I'm not going anywhere, Nyota," he whispered.

"Oh, Jim, you can't guarantee that," she moaned. "You could die tomorrow on some godforsaken planet—or some other alien queen or sorceress could take you away and we would never know what had happened. I know I'm being childish about this, but…"

"Shh, shhh," Jim soothed. "Come here."

Nyota blinked hard and shook her head—whether she was trying to clear it or fight her anxieties or resist him, he couldn't tell—but as soon as he coaxed her to her feet she pressed against him with a choking sob of relief. Jim wrapped both his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

"You're not being childish," he said firmly. "You were right, you were _absolutely_ right, and I was…an idiot."

"But I shouldn't have blamed you," Nyota whispered. Her arms were locked around his waist and she nuzzled her cheek against his chest. "I should've known it was the tears…you couldn't have fought it even if you'd wanted to…"

Jim chuckled wryly. "But I didn't have to go to 'the brat's cabin,' did I?"

Nyota didn't laugh, but she did tilt her head back so she could look at him. Her eyes glistened, as if she was still trying to keep the tears at bay, but there was that old glimmer of courage and determination in them, too, that he'd always admired.

"Do you still love me, Jim Kirk?" she asked.

He leaned his forehead against hers. "You know I do."

"Well, maybe I need you to tell me today."

Jim sighed, looked her squarely in the eye. "I _love_ you."

Nyota's eyes were wide and imploring. "Really?"

Jim smiled. He kissed her lightly between words. "I…love… _you_."

He half-hoped she'd leap up on tiptoe, throw her arms around his neck, and kiss him so thoroughly that it would knock him off balanace. She'd done that before; it wasn't an unreasonable expectation. Rather than attack him, however, she simply leaned against him again and hugged him so tightly, it hurt. At the moment, it was better than anything else he could've imagined.

"I love you," she murmured. "So much. Don't you ever leave me…"

"Never," he whispered.

" _Ever_?"

"I plan on loving you till the day I die, Lieutenant. That's as solid a 'never ever' as I can give you."

She laughed. When he bent his head to look at her, she had her eyes closed.

"Are you tired?" he whispered.

"No, not particularly. I just want you to hold me for a little while…unless you have something better to do, of course."

Jim smiled, took her shoulders in his hands. She looked up in surprise as he gently pushed her back, but she relaxed as soon as he turned her around so she had her back pressed against him. He folded his arms around her from behind and kissed her temple.

"I have nothing better to do," he murmured, "than watch the stars with you."

In the window's reflection, he could see her beautiful face transform into a brilliant smile. She closed her hands over his folded arms and leaned her head back against his collarbone with a long, contented sigh.

He wouldn't be thinking about the Elasian princess again for a long, long time.

THE END


End file.
